Poor Sandringham looked so forlorn, surrounded completely by waves of barbed wire, & (hush please) but Bertie has done away with all those very large & ugly clumps of shrubs & trees, so that it looks a little naked & uncherished.
Everything goes on much the same, & ‘Annie’ was in grand form. I went to the Women’s Institute party, and this year we had very patriotic tableaux! If only you could see them. Dear Mrs Way, as Neptune, glaring furiously through a tangle of grey hair & seaweed, & Miss Burroughs (the Verger’s daughter) as Britannia were HEAVEN. The words were spoken by Mrs Fuller’s cook, who was draped in the Union Jack, and it was all perfect.
Please thank darling Marina for her sweet letter, and with much love & many heartfelt thanks for the present,
Ever your loving sister in law
Elizabeth
7February 1941 to Elizabeth Elphinstone
Buckingham Palace
My Darling Elizabeth
Thank you so much for your letter. I can imagine so well what you are feeling about your jobs, but I am sure that unless you hear of something definite which you know you can do – it is much better to stick to your present ones.
Personally I think the kind of work that you are doing now is extremely important.* The life of the country must go on, & the human side is just as vital to the future as making munitions or planes. Especially the children; helping to mould their characters & make them good citizens – make them feel ‘What can I do for my country’, & never ‘What can I get out of my country’ – that is good work. […]
I do feel so deeply for you & your mother being brotherless & sonless for the moment. I can’t bear it either, as I always look upon John and Andrew as part of my family! A mixture of nephews & brothers – very nice & vulgar & delicious. I have longed to write to John [in a German POW camp] & have hesitated in case it did any harm. Will you send me his address, & I will get some plain paper & sign Peter, & perhaps that would be alright. […]
We had a very interesting tour round air stations a week or two ago. The weather was ghastly, and we had great difficulty in getting about. Ice & snow & blizzards, and everywhere we arrived there was a ‘Jerry’ overhead! It became quite a joke in the end. But it is refreshing to see the actual fighting men, & their modest & completely calm attitude isn’t it? It gives one courage.
I am still just as frightened of bombs, & guns going off, as I was at the beginning. I turn bright red and my heart hammers, in fact I’m a beastly coward but I do believe that a lot of people are, so I don’t mind! Well darling I must stop, and I do feel sure that all your present work is useful, and if you can put in a little refresher in nursing – well all the better.
Tinkety tonk old fruit, & down with the Nazis
always your loving
Peter
5 March 1941 to Princess Margaret
The Royal Train, near Peebles
My Darling Margaret,
I do hope that you are feeling much better, and beginning to sit up and eat once again. It seems a long time since I said goodbye yesterday morning. After a busy day in dear old London at darling old Buckingham Palace with all its ducky little cardboard windows, we left last night in the train for Scotland. Today we spent from 9.55 to 5.15 in Glasgow, and visited a lot of factories shipyards & docks etc. This morning we came to Peebles (PEEBLES FOR PLEESURE as the old lady said) and the country is lovely. There is a wide river rather like the Dee – I can hear it rippling & surging outside the train; and rather low hills, very green & empty – very few houses, and clumps of beeches. It really is most attractive. […]
Please tell Lilibet that I will write to her next – I write to you first because you are an INVALID, and I promised to write you a letter.
Well, my darling, don’t eat too much roast beef, boiled mutton, Irish stew, haricot mutton, beefsteak pudding or lamb chops whilst you are in bed. Just have a few eggs beaten up with onions, sprinkled with lemon juice, & served in a banana skin and you will soon be well.
Goodbye my angel from your very loving Mummy
8 March 1941 to Princess Elizabeth
Glamis Castle
My Darling Lilibet
There is really very little to tell you, but I thought you might like a letter from Glamis. The season is late up here, and the grass is very yellow looking & dry, & the trees look very grey & lifeless, but there are a lot of snowdrops, and it’s refreshing to smell good Scotch air.
I went to see Fanny this afternoon, & McInnes* who was looking blooming! He told me what he had to eat when a child in the Western highlands. They lived on a smallholding, with one cow. They had porridge for breakfast with milk. Then for mid-day meal they practically always had fish & potatoes. Either dried herrings, or fresh herrings, & various sorts of potato dishes. Then milk in the evening. A very wholesome diet, & they all grew strong & happy on it. They never had ‘butcher’s meat’. I was interested, as I am sure it is what all modern doctors urge people to eat.
Yesterday we spent with the Poles.† They were very nice, & we walked along a mile of coast which they are guarding. We were asked occasionally to go down what looked like a large rabbit hole, & how we did it, I don’t know! But we did, & came out again very nearly doubled up!
I saw Margaret E who looked very well, & asked a lot after you. Grandfather seems better, but he is still rather weak & in his room.
Well, my darling, I am looking forward very much to seeing you & Margaret next week.
Lots of kisses from your v. loving Mummy
21 March 1941 to Queen Mary
Windsor Castle
My Darling Mama
Thank you so very much for your dear letter. I am so distressed to hear of your horrid cold, and the very tiring and depressing cough. What a nuisance for you. I do trust that you will throw it off soon. If only you could go away for a little change. Is there no house in Devonshire where you could go for a week or two of sun & quiet? It would be such a help to the cough, tho’ I know how difficult travelling is in these days.
I am so longing to see you again, & shall hope to motor down very soon if you feel up to a visit. It seems years since Bertie & I last talked with you.
We had a very interesting time in Scotland, and visited Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dundee. All the people were in good heart, and working very hard.
All the voluntary services splendid, and a good spirit of cooperation everywhere. Glasgow had not been bombed when we were there but were prepared & ready for the worst. I am afraid that they had a very bad time in Clydebank, where those horrible slummy tenements are real death traps.
Aberdeen has had a good many bombs, & a certain number of casualties, but seemed quite cheerful.
We spent one day with the Polish Army, which was really rather delightful. We inspected the coast defences, and various regiments, lunched with General Sikorski* & his staff, & then watched a ‘Parade march’ in Forfar. They marched past Bertie, doing a sort of minor goose step, only more of a stamp and it was most impressive! The Scottish people love the Poles, and they are extremely popular. There are many billeted in Glamis village, and every one of the village people are delighted with their guests.
One does feel so sorry for the poor men, so cut off from their families, & hearing nothing but dreadful tales from poor Poland. They seemed very pleased to see us, and received us with shouts of ‘God preserve the King’ or some such Polish noise, and their manners are really exquisite. And what with extremely good-looking young Counts and Princes loose in the countryside, I tremble for the love stricken young ladies of North East Scotland! […]
Bertie is in London as usual, & is seeing the Prime Minister – I will keep this letter until he returns, in case there is anything to tell you.
Bertie has returned, and seems quite satisfied with existing affairs. Of course he is very anxious about Yugoslavia, & very anxious about our shipping & all the many dreadful anxieties that are on his mind. But, as he says, we are doing our very best in whatever field one can mention, & Anthon
y Eden* is still out there, which is very helpful. When I say ‘satisfied’, that is not a good word, for of course he cannot be satisfied, but he is hopeful, which is everything. One trembles rather for Greece, doesn’t one. Poor George,† he has been splendid, & so are his people.
With all my love darling Mama, and so hoping to see you soon, from your loving daughter in law
Elizabeth
On 20 March 1941, the King and Queen visited Plymouth which, as a naval port, had been heavily bombed. That night, after they left, the port was subjected to another massive bombardment.
23 [22] March 1941 to Viscountess Astor
Windsor Castle
Dearest Lady Astor,*
Since early yesterday morning when I first heard of the savage attack on dear Plymouth, I have been thinking of you all without ceasing. I have been praying that the people may be helped to find courage, and ability to face such a terrible ordeal, and I am certain that they have all this spirit already.
Words are not invented to say even mildly what one feels, but having just left you after such a happy and inspiring day, one feels it all so bitterly, and so personally. My heart does truly ache for those good mothers and children and all the splendid workers.
This is one of the hard things about being King and Queen of a country that one loves so much. Every time this sort of murderous attack is made, we feel it, as if our own children were being hurt. All we can all do, is to do our very best, and leave the rest in God’s hands.
I know how much you love the people, and how much you have striven to better their lives in Plymouth, and my sympathy is very deep and sincere.
I long to hear how Virginia House fared, also the Club and Toc H† as I fear they were in the shopping centre.
Oh, curse the Germans,
With love and thanks for your devoted service to humanity,
Yours affect.
Elizabeth R
23 April 1941 to Viscount Halifax
Buckingham Palace
My dear Lord Halifax
Here, at last, is the photograph that I promised to send you, and I do hope it is the one you wanted.
Cecil Beaton is so busy photographing fighter pilots just off or just back, that it was some weeks before I could procure the copies of this print! It seems rather pre-war, but rather refreshing to see tulle instead of tweed. Everything seems to be going on much the same since you and Dorothy left us.
We have had a few black moments lately, but adversity seems to suit our people better than success, and the two recent inhumane attacks on London have stiffened people amazingly.
This morning, we went down to East & West Ham, where the whole place is flat, and everywhere we stopped the people were magnificent. Words fail me – you know this spirit – it is unbeatable. It is self-sacrificing and noble – they are indeed true Christians. How I wish that people would not mix up Christianity & religion with a capital R.
It is all there for anyone to see – living and true.
I am sure that you are sad, as I am, about Paul & Yugoslavia.* I am sure that he was afraid & perhaps weak, but with all his faults I would trust him before any of these politicians. He was always terrified of a coup d’etat, as of course it would mean the disintegration of such an uncomfortably sham country. I cannot imagine why they did not return Croatia to Hungary years ago. What a lot of trouble it would have saved them.
The Prime Minister lunched with us today. He seems well, and every time he goes to visit Dover or a blitzed town, he takes a couple of Americans with him. They have to look at devastation, and face facts! Rather successful. We had some close shaves since you lunched here before leaving for the U.S. – I mean that Buckingham Palace has had some close shaves, as we were in Scotland when about 9 bombs fell in the forecourt and demolished the garden entrance. The house is still standing, tho’ one or two ceilings have come down.
Please tell Dorothy to write to me, & tell me her news. I miss her very much, and we both miss you as well. But how important that you should be in Washington. I do hope that the feeling that you are both doing a vital work for our country helps you in your exile. I know that your hearts are here, & that your prayers are with us, as ours are with you. Ever yours sincerely
Elizabeth R
The relationship between Churchill and the King and Queen had become ever closer. It is an established practice of Britain’s constitutional monarchy that the Prime Minister holds a confidential conversation with the monarch every week. During the war, these became weekly lunches and the Queen was almost always present. This was unique – never before or since has the consort of the monarch attended such private meetings. The Queen later recalled, ‘The King told me everything. Well one had to, you see, because you couldn’t not, in a way. There was only us there. So obviously he had to tell one things. But one was so dreadfully discreet, that even now I feel nervous sometimes, about talking about things. You know, you knew something and you couldn’t say a word about it, when you heard people talking absolute nonsense.’
Churchill wrote to the King, ‘I have been greatly cheered by our weekly luncheons in poor old bombed out Buckingham Palace, & feel that in Your Majesty and the Queen there flames the spirit that will never be daunted by peril, nor wearied by unrelenting toil.’*
On 6 May 1941 Churchill discussed with the King and Queen Operation Tiger, a plan to get more tanks and aircraft to Egypt. It succeeded overall, though one transport ship with fifty tanks on board hit a mine and sank in the Narrows off Malta, en route to Alexandria. Churchill wrote to the Queen on 9 May, ‘Madam, Tiger started with 306 [tanks]. One claw was torn away & another damaged last night. The anxiety will last another day at least. More than half is over.’* In the end 250 tanks and 50 aircraft reached Alexandria.
On the evening of 10 May, London suffered a huge air raid – almost 1,500 people were killed and 1,800 injured, 2,000 fires were started and 11,000 houses destroyed. Parliament and Westminster Abbey were both hit.
12 May 1941 to Winston Churchill
Windsor Castle
The Day of Our Coronation
The Queen thanks Mr Churchill most gratefully for his kindness in sending news of the progress and safe arrival of Tiger. Even though he lacks a claw or two, it is to be hoped that he will still be able to chew up a few enemies. Any risk was well worth taking.
The Queen is dreadfully sorry about the House of Commons, & the damage to Westminster Abbey.
29 July 1941 to Osbert Sitwell
Buckingham Palace
My dear Mr Sitwell,
I am so disappointed that you have chosen to come to London the very week we leave to look at troops, and I shall not be back here until Friday. It would have been so delightful to see you, and to pass a few observations on current events. Please do let me know when you are here again, for it is several weeks since I have met anyone not for the first time!
I have just bought two absolutely charming pastels of Queen Victoria and Prince Consort by Winterhalter. They are so young looking, & the Prince Consort has a most appealing & melting look in his eye – I can almost understand how delectable he must have been at that age. I would like to show them to you, they are so human & soft. […]
I am, Yours very sincerely,
Elizabeth R
10 August 1941 The Queen’s radio broadcast to the women of America
It is just over two years since I spoke to the American people, and my purpose then was to thank countless friends for much kindness.
It is to those same friends, and of even greater kindness that I want to speak to-day. We, like yourselves, love peace, and have not devoted the years behind us to the planning of death and destruction. As yet, save in the valour of our people, we have not matched our enemies, and it is only now that we are beginning to marshal around us in their full strength, the devotion and resources of our great British family of Nations, which will in the end, please God, assuredly prevail.
Through these waiting months, a heavy burden is being borne
by our people. As I go amongst them, I marvel at their unshakeable constancy. In many Cities, their homes lie in ruins, as do many of those ancient buildings which you know and love hardly less than we do ourselves. Women and children have been killed, and even the sufferers in hospital have not been spared; yet hardship has only steeled our hearts and strengthened our resolution. Wherever I go, I see bright eyes and smiling faces, for though our road is stony and hard, it is straight, and we know that we fight in a great Cause.
It is not our way in dark days to turn for support to others, but even had we been minded so to do, your instant help would have forestalled us. The warmth and sympathy of American generosity has touched beyond measure the hearts of all of us living and fighting in these Islands. We can, and shall, never forget that in the hour of our greatest need you came forward with clothes for the homeless, food for the hungry, comfort for those who were sorely afflicted. Canteens, ambulances and medical supplies have come in an unceasing flow from the United States. I find it hard to tell you of our gratitude in adequate terms, though I ask you to believe that it is deep and sincere beyond expression.
Unless you have seen, as I have seen, just how your gifts have been put to use, you cannot know, perhaps, the solace which you have brought to the men and women of Britain, who are suffering and toiling in the cause of freedom.
Here in Britain, our women are working in factory and field, turning the lathe and gathering the harvest, for we must have food as well as munitions. Their courage is magnificent, their endurance amazing. I have seen them in many different activities. They are serving in their thousands with the Navy, Army and Air Force; driving heavy lorries, cooking, cyphering, typing, and every one of them working cheerfully and bravely under all conditions. Many are on the land, our precious soil, driving the plough and making a grand job of it. Others are air raid wardens or ambulance-drivers, thousands of undaunted women who quietly and calmly face the terrors of the night bombings, bringing strength and courage to the people they protect and help. I must give a special word to the nurses, those wonderful women, whose devotion, whose heroism, will never be forgotten. In the black horror of a bombed hospital they never falter, and though often wounded, think always of their patients and never of themselves.
Counting One's Blessings Page 33
